


The Wrong Side of Yesterday [PewDieCry]

by allieomalley



Category: Cryaotic (Youtube RPF), PewDiePie (YouTube RPF), pewdiecry
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Loss, M/M, Sad, Sad with a Happy Ending, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 19:33:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6252685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allieomalley/pseuds/allieomalley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Nothing prepares you for the loss of someone you love. Especially when you lose them as suddenly as I lost her. Celeste... One moment you were there and the next you were gone. I'm so sorry... It's all my fault, if... if I was faster maybe I... Maybe you'd still be here. God... I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry... It should've been me... I-it should've been me."</p><p>"You're not alone, Cry... I know you feel that way right now, but it's not your fault she's gone. It was an accident a-and they happen, but it wasn't your fault. You've got to believe that. I know it's hard - it's so, so hard - but I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, okay? I'm gonna be right here every step of the way. Because I... B-because you're my best friend, Cry..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wrong Side of Yesterday [PewDieCry]

**Author's Note:**

> It should be noted that I don't ship anyone I write about outside of fiction. None of this is real in any way, shape, or form. Thanks for reading!

**The Wrong Side of Yesterday.**

**Chapter One.**

"Thanks, Chey," I say, meandering backwards with my hands in my jeans pockets. "That was a really great cake, Nate loved it."

"You're very welcome, Cry, I'm glad the party went well," Cheyenne, my next door neighbour, smiles warmly, a clean glass platter held to her chest.

"I'm sorry you couldn't come."

"Oh, it's alright. Maybe next year work won't interfere, huh?" She laughs and I chuckle as well as I walk up my porch steps. She pauses at the bottom and asks, "How is Celeste doing? You said she was sick the other day."

"She's doing okay. Still pretty sick, but she didn't let it get in the way of her fun," I smile, shaking my head at the thought of my fiancé shuffling around the house trying to have fun while she felt like death. She was so cute, and she still brought light and joy to everything even though she was so sick.

"I'll bet!" Chey laughs. "I've gotta go, but tell her I told her to get plenty of rest!"

"Will do! I'll see you around, Chey. Thanks again," I say with a little wave.

"Bye, Cry!" Chey calls over her shoulder, already at the gate.

I'm just about to head inside when suddenly there's a massive _boom_ and I'm thrown back on my ass.

I skid across pavement, searing pain ravaging my front, and scramble back to see flames spewing from the busted doors and windows of my home. Someone screams as I haul ass back up the porch steps. Hands grab me, try to pull me back. I shake them off and leap over the splintered remains of the door. I stumble. Fall. The floor is hot, the smoke billowing around me burning my eyes and throat.

"Nathan?" I scream, the burning in my throat worsening. "Ce-Celeste!" I can barely see through the thick, black smoke, but I need to find them. Coughing, I right myself once more and stumble forward. God, I'm practically blind in here... I look back when I hear the distant whine of sirens and I realise I can no longer see the front door. Smoke swirls around my face and I cough violently. The angry orange glow of fire is everywhere, but I don't see any actual flames. I turn away from the sirens and move deeper into the house.

_Crack!_

My head snaps up and I barely throw myself out of the way as a burning beam crashes through the floor. Chest heaving, I stare at the gaping hole, flames crackling within and above. Forget what I said about not seeing any fire! Scrambling a little, I push myself up. I yell out again. My voice is hoarse from the heat and smoke. Feels like I've swallowed hot sand. My head snaps up again as another voice echoes through the house.

"Cry...!" Comes the distant reply, and I take off towards it, dodging pieces of ceiling and walls as the house comes down around me. The bits that do hit me singe my skin, leaving furious red marks that crack and bleed.

"Nate!" I cry, reaching for the knob on his door without thinking. I yank my hand back, hearing the sizzle on the red hot metal. Yelling for Nate to get back, I ram my shoulder against the door. Two more strikes and the weakened frame shatters. I fall into the room. Nate's posters are burning on the walls and smoke billows over my head as I spot my little brother on the floor, trapped by his fallen bookcase. He reaches out to me, coughing, and I scramble to his side.

"Nate! Buddy, I'm here, I've got you!" I cough, grabbing the burning wood. I ignore my screaming in my hands as I lift it. My jaw's clenched hard enough to pop as Nate squirms and wiggles out. He's on his hands and knees, coughing so hard he throws up black, toxic bile. He's barely gotten up when I drop the bookcase and pull him up, rushing us out of the room and back down the hall. I keep my brother tucked under my arm, half bent over to try and keep him low enough to escape the worst of the smoke. As soon as I see a faint outline of the front door I let go and shove him towards it.

"Run, Nate. Get out!" I yell over the crackling of flames and the creaking of the weakening foundations. I try to turn away but he's clinging to me.

"What about you?" He yells back, half bent over as he coughs. I don't have time for this, the sirens are getting louder and louder!

"Celeste!" I cry simply, shaking him off and running back into the house. Nate yells after me but I ignore him and pray he doesn't follow me; I _need_ to find Celeste.

It's getting harder and harder to breathe. The air scorches my lungs as I stumble down the hallway past Nate's room. With every step I call for Celeste but I can't hear anything over the flames and the building and the sirens. It all rings in my ears. My vision is dimming as I stumble through the kitchen, my throat too raw to yell, and I clip my hip on the counter. I fall to my knees on the tiles. The cracked and red hot ceramic burns my hands and arms. I think I hear the firemen outside, and I struggle to get up. I need to hurry. My arms buckle as I try to push myself back to my feet. My cheek hits the hot tile. A broken whimper escapes my dry, cracked lips. Eyes burning, the heat of the flames drying them out, I lift my head and instantly wish I'd let Nate drag me away.

Someone starts screaming. It rings in my ears and drowns out everything as I meet the cold, dead eyes of my fiancé. Tears stream down my face but they feel more like liquid fire as they run tracks down my dirty face. I scramble upright, the screaming still ringing in my ears, but I knock something as I rise and a beam cracks and falls, pinning me to the floor. The screaming intensifies as the beam sears my flesh, setting my shirt on fire. I writhe as the flames bite my flesh, unable to get free. Through it all I can't take my eyes off Celeste, her skin and hair burning, the kitchen table trapping her. 

She's staring right at me. 

She barely looks like herself. 

Please, she's staring straight through me. Someone _please_ make it stop!

I can hear the sirens through the screams now, and as the smoke chokes me I feel hands grabbing me and hauling the beam away. They pull me up and drag me away. I try to help but my legs are too weak. The screaming becomes broken and I realise they're coming from me as I'm racked with harsh, hacking coughs. Everything starts to get hazy, and just before I faint I see Celeste. Her dark eyes are glassy and fishlike, her perfect face vacant and ruined. The image is burned into my mind like the flames on my skin as everything goes black.

...

...

At first all I'm aware of is sound. My eyes feel like they're glued shut and it feels like my body isn't even present at all. For a moment I wonder if I'm dead. There's a steady beeping nearby, and I quickly decide that if this is afterlife then I'd rather evaporate into nothing.

After a while I hear voices.

"—told you before, ma'am, we have no idea how long it'll take for him to wake up," I hear an unfamiliar voice say. I hear a sob, and then my mother's voice.

"Isn't there anything you can do?" She begs, and I try to open my eyes, speak, move, _anything_ to let her know I'm okay.

"I'm sorry... I know this isn't a good time, but would you mind speaking to a police officer about what happened?" The first voice asked. He must have been a doctor.

"I-I don't—" My mother begins, but another voice interrupts her.

"I got it, mom," Nate says, and I hear footsteps.

"No, Nathan, you need to rest," mom argues, and I hear Nate huff.

"Like I'm going to get any sleep. I... I can't keep closing my eyes and going back there, mom..." He's whispering, but they must be close because I can still hear him pretty clearly. At the word _there_ my body stiffens and suddenly I'm aware of everything again. 

My eyes snap open as my body starts convulsing violently, desperately trying to expel something from my throat. The beeping goes crazy and suddenly there are people surrounding me and holding me down. Tape pulls at my raw skin and I screw my eyes shut at the pain, coughing and gagging as something long is pulled out of my throat. Hands push me sideways as bile sears up my throat and I spew into a bag. My stomach heaves until there's nothing left and then keeps going for a while, as if for good measure. The goo that came up is black and tar-like, and my throat is so raw now I can barely breathe. I collapse onto my back and arms latch around my neck.

"Cryaotic, thank god!" Mom sobs, crushing me a little and making it even harder to fill my aching lungs.

"M-mom," I cough, and she loosens her grip. It's a moment before I realise that Nate is pulling her off me. He's covered in bandages from his burns, and he has a grim look on his face as he passes mom and hugs me.

"Hey, Cry. It's good to see you awake," he murmurs. I frown.

"What...?" I ask, confused and a little scared of the way everyone is looking at me. Not just mom and Nate, but the doctor and police officers, too. "H-how long have I been here?"

"Just over a week." A familiar voice says from the doorway and in a rush I push myself up, wincing. Sure enough, standing in the doorway with a bag on his shoulder and suitcase behind him, is my best friend. He walks over, dropping his things by a chair in the corner.

"Pewds? Wh-what are you doing here?" I stammer, my voice cracking as I struggle to speak clearly. My throat hurts so bad. He frowns and I feel a pang of guilt. It's not that I'm not happy he's here, because I am. It's been almost six months since we've seen each other in person. And I guess I was in a pretty bad accident so he would've been worried, but that's no reason for him to fly all the way—Wait. 

"Where's Celeste?" The room goes dead silent, save for the beeping. Looking around helplessly, I add, "Is she... in another room?" I look around the room, fear mounting as my ears start ringing.

"Honey..." Mom begins, taking my bandaged hand. I swallow hard as the ringing in my ears gets louder. "Honey, Celeste... She didn't make it. She was killed in the explosion." The ringing becomes deafening and suddenly I see Celeste in her place. I inhale sharply, fear lancing through me, as she stares at me with those lifeless eyes. My body tenses as she tilts her head, her singed hair falling over her shoulder, and the ringing gets so loud it hurts and I'm covering my ears trying to block it out but it's like it's coming from inside. Celeste's cracked lips stretch into a smile I once thought was beautiful, and black tar-like bile spills down her chin. I felt the scream coming before it wrenched from my throat. Flames start crackling everywhere and I scramble away, backing right up the headboard. Celeste's smile widens and I kick at her as she comes at me, tar still spilling down her chin and neck. Hands come from nowhere and grab my arms and legs, pinning me to the burning bed. Flames lick the hands and my skin and my screams turn from fear to agony. Tears stream down my face, screams descending into sobs as something pierces my arm. My limbs start to feel heavy and the horrible vision fades and all I see is Pewds standing at the foot of the bed, tears in his eyes. I try to reach for him but my limbs are too heavy and those hands are still holding me down. 

Whatever drugs they've pumped into me hit me fully and I space out, everything seeming to slow and kind of blur. It's almost as horrifying as the vision of Celeste, but my brain isn't working fast enough to even process fear. People float around the room around me but my eyes stay on Pewds, mostly because I'm too out of it to really focus on anything else.

...

...

I must have fallen asleep at some point during my drug-induced stupor, because when I open them again there's light filtering through the closed blinds. I breathe in and wince, the air hurting my throat and the light hurting my eyes. My mouth feels dry and thick, but at least I don't have a tube down my throat this time. 

Through bleary eyes I peer around the room, and at first I think it's empty but then my eyes settle on a bundle of blankets and clothes on the chair by the bed. It shifts and I see dirty blonde hair poking out and I realise it's Pewds. A small smile parts my chapped lips as my eyes trail over him and I note how uncomfortable he must be curled up like that with his neck bent at that angle. My smile quickly fades when I remember why we're both here, though. I figure he must've sent mom home, and maybe Nate if he's been... discharged. Knowing mom she wouldn't have left the hospital since...

I sniff softly as my nose runs and my body locks up as the image of Celeste flashes before me again. I screw my eyes shut and manage to keep a hold of myself, but it takes a lot of effort, and I almost pop my jaw I'm clenching it so hard. The heart monitor spikes as I try to force the images back. I jump violently when someone puts their hand on mine, and my eyes snap open to see Pewds staring at me with worry etched into his tired features.

"You okay, Cry?" He asks softly, and I take a moment to collect myself before answering. It takes only a moment to realise how much easier it is to ground myself looking into eyes that are so vastly different to hers. Celeste's eyes were a deep, dark green. Almost black. Pewdie's eyes are bright and clear and blue. I let out a shaky breath, loosening my grip on his hand. I didn't even realise I'd started holding it.

"Y-yeah... Fine," I lie, my voice soft and hoarse. Pewds frowns and pours me a glass of water from the jug by my bed. I'm already mostly upright, so I don't need to move.

"Here." He hands me the glass and I nod in thanks, not trusting myself to speak any more. I nurse the glass for a while, staring down at it with a somewhat vacant look, but eventually I force myself to drink. It's like drinking from the fountain of youth. The cool liquid – which is probably only room temperature – rushes down my throat and the dry, damaged flesh sucks it up greedily. Before I know it I've drained the glass, and I let out a soft, appreciative moan as I lower it. Everything is aching, and it hurts worst where I moved.

"They should've brought a bigger glass. Or maybe I should just give you the jug?" Pewds jokes. My cheeks redden a little and I give him a sheepish, half-hearted smile. Even that small movement hurts, and I reach up and gingerly touch soft bandages covering most of the right side of my face. I look up at Pewds again and only just catch the sorrow in his eyes before he smiles at me again.

"Can I get a refill?" I ask softly, and he's happy to oblige. I take smaller sips this time, not wanting to give myself a stomach ache on top of everything else. I eye the bandages on my hands and arms, and the fact that there's only an annoying pinching and stinging aside from the universal ache makes me wonder how much pain medication I'm on. It's got to be a lot, judging from the state I'm in. The next time I lower my glass, I clear my throat and look up at him.

"Have you talked to mom or the doctors yet?" I ask, knowing he'll pick up what I'm putting down. He nods and takes a moment to stand up and stretch after his terribly awkward sleep on the not-plush-enough chair. The blanket falls to the ground and he groans laboriously, making me crack a small smile despite myself as I say, "You know, it's not my fault you slept on that chair all night."

"Uh, yeah it is," Pewds replies with a smirk. "You went and ran into a burning building _just_ so I'd have to sleep in an uncomfortable hospital chair." A snort escapes me and I grimace at the pain it causes.

"Uh huh. Sure." I roll my eyes as he slumps back into the seat, pulling his knee up to his chest. "You gonna tell me how fucked up I am or should I get up and find a doctor?"

"Okay, okay," Pewds says, holding up one hand in surrender. "Um, do you want me to soften the blow?"

"Just spit it out before I get up and smack it out of you," I press, rolling my eyes again since there's nothing I can throw at him.

"Fine! Okay, you're... You're not in a good way, Cry," Pewds finally explains, the light mood he'd been going for evaporating in an instant. "You've got... A lot of burns. I'm surprised you're even conscious right now with all the medication they've got you on."

"Honestly, it's probably for the best... though I think it's starting to wear off," I wince, looking down at myself again. I look terrible, covered in bandages from what I can see, and honestly I'm afraid of what I look like underneath.

"It's worst on your back and chest... I mean, maybe a doctor should tell you." I can tell he's hesitant to break it to me, wriggling in his seat and avoiding my eyes.

"Felix... Come on... Just tell me," I plead, moving to put a reassuring hand on his knee. The second I bend to lean forward plain explodes everywhere and my body twitches before I flop back onto the bed. "Oh... Fuck me," I groan, painful coughs tearing up my sore throat. Pewds is watching me half out of his chair until I start leaning over like I'm going to vomit, then he lunges for the call bell. I don't actually spew, but I'm coughing so hard I feel like I'm about to, and when the nurse comes in and sees me doubled over in pain she rushes over.

"What happened?" Her eyes are on me but she's talking to Pewds, which I have _no_ problem with.

"He tried to move a-and—" Pewds stammers. The nurse gently pets the back of my head and holds another bag under me for me to vomit into. I spew up the water as well as more of that putrid black gunk. She assures me it's normal and it's from the smoke I breathed in, but that doesn't make it any less foul.

Once my body is done trying to expel my entire stomach, the nurse helps me to lay back. As soon as my back touches the sheets I hiss, tears spring to the corners of my eyes, and Pewds almost jumps to my aid again.

"Sh-shit," I mutter through gritted teeth. The nurse's smile falters as I fix her with a helpless, pleading stare.

"Okay, Cryaotic, let's get you some more pain relief, hm?" She says, tone infinitely gentle and caring, and I nod. I don't trust my voice enough to speak. She's still supporting me so my back doesn't touch the sheets, and when she asks me if I'm okay to support myself while she does her thing I automatically nod. The nurse carefully lets me go and my body immediately buckles. My yelp of pain echoes through the room as I hit the bed and she immediately gets me upright again, my damaged body completely useless in her hands. I can barely see, my head is spinning so much. 

Dimly I'm aware of the nurse switching places with Pewds and his hands hesitantly clutching my shoulders. I groan in pain at the contact and see stars dancing around the nurse as she hits the call button and walks around to my other side to adjust the release on my IV. I assume it's a slow release morphine drip, because it's only a few moments before the pain starts to dull. It goes from a ten to an eight and I whimper at that small relief.

Another nurse enters the room, responding to the call bell, and concern flickers across her face before the reassuring mask of a smile settles in its place. The first nurse takes her into the hall, and I hear them talking about me in hushed voices. The morphine is kind of interfering with my ability to understand, though.

"It's gonna be okay, man," Pewds whispers, and I look up at him somewhat vacantly. My mouth is hanging half open, and my vision is still swimming and I can't focus properly. I still see the worry in his face, though. He adjusts his grip on me and a strangled noise escapes my throat. Immediately he apologises, but I don't respond.

When the nurses come back my head is still spinning. They speak th Pewds for a few minutes, about giving me a shower and fresh dressings and that they might have jumped the gun in taking me from the ICU and giving me the freedom to move. The thought of being restrained terrifies me, but I know there's nothing I can do since I'm practically immobilised by my injuries anyway. As they speak I try not to sway too much, but my head is spinning so bad I don't think my efforts count for too much. Pewds keeps me upright, though. 

A small groan escapes my lips as the nurses untie and slip off my hospital gown, thankfully covering up my now naked crotch as they do. I'm pretty sure most of my ass is on full display, but I can't find it in me to care. I see Pewds at the end of my bed and I managed a half-pained, half-medicated smile and he actually cracks one back as the nurses start unwrapping me. The breath catches in my throat as the bandages tug on my burns and I clench my jaw tight, but Pewds still sees the pain in my eyes and in turn I can see how much it hurts him. It can't be easy to see me like this, after all... 

I hiss through my teeth as bandages continue to come off, pulling my wounds and making them crack and bleed. Once the bandages are off the nurses go to get me off the bed to do my legs, but I stop them with a clumsy wave.

"I don't think you wanna be here for this part, Pewds," I chuckle, glad my cheeks are already red because the thought of Pewds seeing me stark nude is pretty embarrassing. He seems to agree because his pale face goes beet red in an instant.

"I-I, uh, yeah, n-no!" He says, and a genuine smile replaces the forced one on my face. It hurts, but I can't help it. He stammers out an apology, which he laughs off, then hurriedly leaves the room calling out that he's going to get a coffee.

Once he's gone and the door's closed the nurses continue helping me out of the bed, and my face immediately goes an even deeper shade of red when the blankets fall away. I try to remember that they're nurses and they've seen at least twenty years' worth of naked men, a lot of probably a lot harder on the eyes than me, even in my current condition. 

It's only when they help me half-limp, half-waddle into the bathroom and I see myself in the mirror that I consider taking that back. I only see my front, but it's pretty bad. Everything is an angry red, and there's blisters everywhere. There's a patch near my left hip that's black with cracked streaks of white, and that terrifies me more than anything. I know that black flesh means dead flesh. What does that mean for me? Skin grafts? I'm not exactly a burns expert but I know it isn't going to be pretty.

The nurses help me over to the shower in the bathroom and one of them turns the water on cool. The relief is instantaneous as she runs it over my back, and I let out an involuntary groan at the blissful feeling. One of the nurses poorly covers a laugh and I think my face is so hot it might cause more burns. It isn't long before I stop caring, though, because the water feels so good. It hurts with the nurses touching me, but it's the worst when I don't feel it all. Apparently the nurses feel the need to make small talk while they bathe me, because one of them says, "You and your friend make a cute couple."

"I... What?" I asked, half looking over my shoulder at her. "W-we're not t-together. I actually... In the accident I... My fiancé..." Unable to say the words I just let myself trail off before the lump in my throat gets too big and I start crying again. The nurses both falter and one of them quietly clears her throat.

"I'm sorry," she says, and I nod stiffly. 

The rest of the shower is silent and, for me, beyond awkward. It's bad enough that I have to be washed like an invalid but the pain just adds to that, and combined with the thought of Celeste so kindly brought to the front of my mind it's enough to have me choked up and on the verge of tears by the time it's over. Knowing they're doing their best to make this easy on me, I clench my jaw and try not to show how much it hurts as they dry me off and take me back into the hospital room to dress my wounds. Again, I can't help the whimper of relief as one of them applies some kind of cream to the burns on my back. 

This time no one laughs.

Instead of helping back into bed, the nurses put me in a wheelchair. It's a slow, painful process that I hope I don't have to repeat too often. They reattach the IV drip to the needle in the back of my hand and hang the bag from a hook connected to the wheelchair and I'm told I'm being moved to another room because they overestimated how much I'd healed. I swallow stiffly and nod.

"Where's Pewdiepie?" I ask as I get wheeled into the hall. The nurse doesn't even get a chance to answer before sneakers squeak on the linoleum and he takes over.

"I've got him," he says to the nurse. Then he leans around to look at me and gives me a smile. "You're in my hands now, bitch," he tells me in a low tone and wiggles his eyebrows. I smile despite myself and chuckle. It hurts, but I'm grateful for him trying to cheer me up.

"Oh, god. Please don't push me down some stairs," I grin, and he laughs.

"I'll consider it," he concedes, starting to push me down the hall after the nurse to my new room. When we pass the stairs to get in the elevator he pretends he's about to push me down for real, and I grip the arms of the chair in fear for the split second I'm thrust towards the edge. He just laughs as I cuss him out in the lift.

My new room is private like the other one, but this one has a weird, fancy mattress that periodically adjusts so there isn't pressure on any one part of my body for too long. I wince as the nurses help me into it, but I'm granted a slightly relief when I realise the mattress is also soothingly cool. I poke it and realise it's some kind of gel pocket covering the top of the mattress. Apparently I'm not allowed to sit up anymore, so I lay flat on my back as Pewds talks to the nurses. When he comes back and sits by the bed, I look at him and flash a weak smile.

"This mattress is the weirdest thing I've ever laid on," I comment, and he cracks a smile.

"If you weren't such a cripple I'd tell you to shove so I could see for myself." We both laugh, and I end up coughing. My throat still feels like hot sandpaper and there's a near constant tickle in the back that flares up painfully. Hastily Pewds hands me a water bottle a nurse left for me and I take a few gulps. The room temperature water feels cool on my charred flesh, and it smothers the tickle enough that I don't immediately start coughing again. My skin twinges as I hand the bottle back, making me grimace.

"Maybe I should handle the water bottle next time," he suggests, only half joking. I roll my eyes.

"How am I gonna hold onto my dignity if I can't even drink something on my own?" I reply in a drawl. In truth, though, I don't want to let him do everything for me because that means I can't handle it on my own, and that means admitting how messed up I really am.

"Cry..." Pewds frowns. His concerned, slightly disappointed expression shoots my denial in the back and my jokey smile immediately falters and falls away.

"Pewds..." I reply, hesitating slightly. My smile is long gone now as he fixes me with an irritated look. He knows I'm picking up what he's putting down. Averting my gaze as guilty floods my system, I murmur, "I can't feel useless, Felix. I... I couldn't save her back there. I promised I'd always protect her, but I wasn't there when she needed me most." I'm cut off as a painful sob builds in my chest and tears run into my hairline. Pewdie's lips part slightly and his eyes widen, and I turn my head further away so he can't see me cry. When his fingers brush mine I jump. Pain jars my body and I whimper, but he clasps my hand in his.

"I'm so sorry, Cry..." He says lamely, unknowingly repeating what the nurse said to me earlier. "I'm just trying to look out for you." I know he's right and that I shouldn't push myself. That he's only trying to help me. Make sure I don't hurt myself even more. It's my own fault I'm here, anyway, for running into a burning building with no regard for my own safety. But what else could I do? Celeste needed me. But it wasn't enough. She's... She's dead, and it's all my fault. Another sob bubbles out of me and it hurts more than the first, but I deserve it. I deserve everything that's coming to me and more.

"I should've died in that fire... She should be the one who's still here." I whisper, barely audible. Half of me hopes Pewds misses it, but the other is praying he doesn't. When his grip tightens on my hand, though, I know he heard it.

"Come on... Don't say that. I know you miss her – I do too, it's horrible what happened – but you can't wish you were dead," he pleads, and I scrunch my eyes shut and clench my jaw.

"Why not?" I practically spit my reply, and I feel him flinch. "It's my fault she's dead. I couldn't save her, Pewds. I don't deserve to be here."

"You don't deserve to be in hospital," he partially agrees. "But you don't deserve to be _dead,_ Cry. Do you think Celeste would want you to be torturing yourself like this?"

" _Celeste_ would've wanted me to save her!" I hiss. Finally I turn my head to meet his eyes once more. "I saw her in there. I... saw her lying there, but I was too late. A-and now she's _all_ I can see. Every time I close my eyes..." I clench my jaw and look away again, fixing my gaze on the ceiling. 

For a while the room is silent aside from the whir of the weird mattress and my muffled sobs, but then Pewds gets up. My head snaps to him, and I'm about to beg him not to go when he leans down and gives me an awkward, painful hug. The pain is nothing compared to the relief, however, and I start crying even harder, clinging to him like a koala and letting it all out on his shoulder. Pewds whispers comforting nothings as he runs his fingers through my hair, but I can barely hear him over the pain. Not from my injuries. The pain's in my chest, hollow, deep, throbbing.

So empty.

"I miss her," I whimper. "Every time I look at the door I expect her to come in and realise it was all some horrible dream..."

"I know... It's okay, you're not alone," Pewds replies, keeping his voice just as soft as my pathetic whining. I sniffle and loosen my grip to meet his eyes.

"Please don't go..."

"Wasn't planning on going anywhere." Pewds smiles grimly as he lets me go, and I try to smother the hiss of pain. Settling back in his chair, he frowns. "Should I get a nurse to up your meds?"

"N-no... I'm good. Promise." I force a smile, but I think it looks like more of a grimace, and it only serves to make Pewds look even more concerned. "Seriously, man. I'll be okay."

"Tell me if it gets too much, okay?"

"Yeah, I will."

"Promise."

"Okay, I promise I'll tell you if it gets too bad. Happy?"

"Very." Pewds smirks and I pull a face at him as best I can with half of it bandaged. The silly face turns into a yawn that pinches my cheek badly, and I wince into it. I laugh when Pewds yawns too and flips me off, though. "Asshole. You should get some sleep."

"Yeah..." My gaze shifts to the ceiling again.

"You can't just not sleep, Cry. If you have a nightmare I'll be right here when you wake up, okay?" Pewds promises, and I nod stiffly.

"Y-yeah... Okay," I stammer. I swallow around the lump in my throat and look at him again. "Night, Pewds."

"G'night, Cry." He shifts in his chair to get more comfortable, and I clench my jaw. He shouldn't have to be so uncomfortable for my sake. I know if I say anything he'll just brush it off, and I don't want him to leave even though it'd be more comfortable in a hotel or something. So I keep my mouth shut and close my eyes. Pewds is right, I'm exhausted. Despite the heaviness of my lids and the lethargy weighing down my body, though, it takes forever to fall asleep.

...

...

My entire body jolts like it's been shocked and I scream in agony and terror, throwing the blankets off my legs. My eyes are wide open but I can't see anything around me. All I see is her. I scream again as hands clasp around my shoulders and try to still my wild thrashing, but it only makes me fight harder. Celeste draws closer, everything behind and around her thick, black smoke, and the tar-like bile drips down her chin again as she shouts something at me. Her voice is drowned out by screaming and the crackle of flames, but then I hear her. Only... it's not her voice. Her mouth is moving, screaming at me, but it's not her voice.

Felix?

The smoke clears like it was blown away in a hurricane and Celeste evaporates before my eyes, leaving Pewds in her place.

"P-Pewds..." I breathe. The word has barely left my mouth before I break down. He's holding his jaw, and I can already see the angry red that's sure to turn into a bruise. Violent shudders wrack my entire frame and I start sobbing so hard I almost throw up. It's loud, ugly crying. Blood seeps through my bandages, staining the crisp white red, and the agony of burst blisters and cracked, raw skin only sends me spiralling faster. I look around, barely able to see through the tears, and I see nurses racing around, preparing to sedate me. But I don't focus on them. 

As the sedatives flood my system and my eyes roll back in my head, the image of Pewds – _Felix_ – staring at me in abject horror is all I can see.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys liked this first chapter. I'm not gonna commit to schedule because I'm doing a lot of commission work right now struggling to pay for hefty medical bills. Unfortunately the commission work has to take priority over writing. But I'm gonna be writing as much as I can and I'm gonna try and be semi-regular for you guys. Also I made Chey a friend rather than his fiance because I didn't really want to kill her off in the first chapter haha the girl doesn't deserve that shit :p
> 
> Anyway, thanks so much for reading, and I hope you'll tune in for later installments B) l8r sk8r.


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